


Sun-chasers

by catharsis_in_a_bottle



Category: The Tensorate Series - JY Yang
Genre: Fight Scene, Other, Short, yep basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28117683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catharsis_in_a_bottle/pseuds/catharsis_in_a_bottle
Summary: "Mokoya," they said, relishing the feel of her name on their tongue. "Do you want to overthrow the government with me?"
Relationships: Sanao Mokoya & Rider (The Tensorate Series), Sanao Mokoya/Rider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Sun-chasers

**Author's Note:**

> The number of fics in this fandom is minimal, and the number of fics surrounding Red Threads of Fortune is currently none, so... I'll be quite surprised if anyone actually reads this. 
> 
> I read the entire Tensorate series. I fell in love with each and every book. I found Rider intensely, wonderfully badass. This fic ensued. [Warning for a brief but graphic fight scene.]
> 
> If you haven't read past Black Tides of Heaven... well, there aren't really any spoilers here, but I encourage you to read the rest of the series because damn, it just gets better and better. You meet Rider, a nonbinary icon. Quite an incentive. 
> 
> Thank you for choosing to read my contribution to this very small fandom. I don't have any more ideas as to what to put in the notes today, so... adieu.

"Tell me, Mokoya," said Rider, shifting to tuck a leg under their knee, peering at Mokoya from beneath a dark hood. It was a gaze so constant, so unmoving, that often it was off-putting, offbeat from the shifting glances and threatening hands of the masses. There were daggers under this warrior's cloak, blood woven into the threads. But the lack of malicious intent in all of their mannerisms - the tilted head, the limp hands, the angle of the shoulders - spoke of someone who wanted to _listen_ and not to _hurt_. It was difficult to find such people these days.

"Do you believe in the fortunes?" they asked. 

Mokoya lifted her head to gaze back at Rider. She squinted. "How could I not?"

"You misunderstand," said Rider. They looked away from Mokoya and up at the stars. "I don't mean _time_ , I don't mean... the progression of things. I mean the fortunes idolized by the general populace. The entity that breathes in its own sense, if you will. Do you believe?"

Mokoya was quiet. She was still. She waited and thought.

"No," she replied at last. "I don't. It's horseshit. Things progress and things happen... but none of it is under the control of any entity. People die..." _Eien, my love..._ "...and there's no justice in it, because we invented justice. All these virtues we stand by, it all falls to pieces when you look at the universe as it is. Does that make any sense?"

Rider smiled. "It makes perfect sense," they said, "and I rather hoped you would say something along those lines."

"Why?"

"Because it means that no matter what happens from here forward, you understand that justice isn't some pervasive substance. It is a law that few abide by. We are not following destiny-"

Rider's voice was stifled as a figure grabbed their mouth and neck from behind. Mokoya let out a shout of surprise, an icy, reptile-like feeling moving up her back. She leapt backwards and tripped - _Cheebye!_ \- falling at the boots of another figure, who lifted a foot to crush her skull. But she was quick to get her wits back. She relaxed, allowed petty intrusive _emotion_ to flood from her mind, and tensed the bastard through water-nature, snapping their spine. Remorse was for the dead. 

Rider was swift and vicious, whipping out a blade from the folds of their cloak and slitting the throat of their attacker. Blood spilled onto the dust of the cold earth and stained it. 

" _Fuck them!_ " they hissed, snarling at the limp bodies on the ground. Mokoya stood, slowly, shakily, and looked down upon the man she had killed - a bearded Protectorate guard shrouded in dark robes, one apparently too foolish to fight through the Slack first. 

"They're both guards," Rider muttered, grinding one heel into the dirt. "I knew they'd been following us, but not so closely. Obviously, they think we'd be most useful to them as corpses. I..."

"I know what you're going to ask me," Mokoya interrupted. Rider turned to stare with wide-eyes. The serenity of before was gone; now it was anger, disbelief, bloodlust. It would be terrifying to anyone except _Mokoya_ , the cynic, the beloved. 

Rider cleared their throat. 

"Well," they said. "You know what I think of the Protector. She is vile and murderous, and so are her sycophants. And if the fortunes are horseshit, as you said... all of them will stop at nothing to seize control of the future and crush the rebellion out of every living body on the planet."

Rider extended a hand. Their wrist was dotted with blood, and their face was wild, yet coolly and eerily controlled.

"Mokoya," they said, relishing the feel of her name on their tongue. "Do you want to overthrow the government with me?"

Mokoya sucked in a breath. But she took the outstretched hand, and she pressed it to her collarbone, and she gazed back at Rider, reflecting every last bit of their intensity. That gaze alone was enough for an answer.


End file.
